And Yet

I don’t believe in any life but this one
And yet
As four strangers fought to revive you
I walked the circle weeping and shaking
Family room
Dining room
Murmuring all the while
“Come back to me my love
Come back”
I don’t believe in any life but this one
And yet
As time passed and the battle continued
I walked the circle
Crying out to our dead child
“You can’t have him yet Ken
I’m not ready”
I stood in the family room
Watching them trying to pound life
Into your unresponsive body
Then walked the circle again
I don’t believe in any life but this one
And yet
I wrapped my arms around myself whispering
“I don’t want you to go but if you must
It’s ok my love – it’s ok”
I love you more than life
Would give anything for just 5 minutes more
Any yet
I don’t believe in any life but this one

Tricia 5/2014

(I woke to the news of Maya Angelou’s death
Spent the morning reading her poems
I don’t share all her beliefs
And yet
Her poetry speaks to me
This is where the aftermath
Of her words, her death, took me today)

About triciabertram

I have written all my life. Writing helps me to make sense of a world I often don’t understand. Poetry is my supreme solace, closely followed by literature and music. When my son ended his life in 1999 I embarked on the most difficult journey of my life, my grief journey. To survive in this unknown, harsh landscape I had to write. It was for me, the only way I could even begin to move forward. Then in 2009 my darling husband died suddenly and so my journey continues. I write about other issues but because of my life experience, grief and death are continuing themes in my writing life. In our culture I believe there is a fear of death, an inability to accept the inevitability of our mortality, and this creates enormous difficulties for the bereaved and those around them. I have begun this blog in the hope I will create a small ripple in the pond of fear that is currently drowning the reality of death and grief. I will continue to skim the stones of my truth, watch them bounce, and see how many ripples I can make.

Posted on May 29, 2014, in Poems. Bookmark the permalink. 19 Comments.

  1. Very good piece. Powerful, gut-wrenching words

    • This one was ‘gut-wrenching ‘ to write, Joe. I had to write it in the first person. Often when I write a sad poem I’m able to write from what I think of as a witness state, but not this one.

  2. This piece hits home darling. Hard to read but so vital to hear. Does that make sense? Your courage in taking the reader to that place, and also yourself, back to that moment in time -is remarkably brave xo

    • This one was painful, yet necessary to write. So yes your words not only make sense, they resonate my darling. You know I’m never far from that moment. It’s strange, although it’s sometimes painful, there’s also comfort in knowing I was there for him.
      Love you. xx

  3. I love the repetition of ‘And yet …’ Really nice, Tricia. Very moving.

  4. Its courageous and brave to write this kind of poem Tricia, and your doing so inspires me. I felt your pain (as much as that is possible) in your words as you must feel it every day. I flounder around in no man’s land where belief is concerned. The logical part of me doesnt believe in any other life but this one “and yet” what do I know?

    Your written words always resonate deeply with me Tricia my lovely friend. I would love to sit with you and talk the night away. I love you very much ❤️ Xxx

    • Ah my dear Christine, wouldn’t it be wonderful if we could sit and talk the night away. We could have matching recliners, a big pot of tea, and just share our thoughts and feelings. Who knows what we’d come up with. 🙂
      Love you. ❤ xx

  5. I’m sitting in a coffeeshop in Glasgow with tears streaming down my face. I don’t easily. Your way with words is amazing and what you have been through is more than anyone should ever have to face x

    • Thank you dear Pooky. I believe we all have our bag of sorrow to carry, I’m just a bit more verbose about mine. I’m almost driven to express my strong opinions on the subjects of life limiting illness and our inevitable mortality. Sometimes I feel like I keep rewriting the same story, but I must write what comes up for me, and this is what keeps coming up for me.
      Big hugs. xx

      • It’s not exactly surprising that these things play on your mind and I see no reason not to continue to explore them. You do so very beautifully in a way which both helps you, and helps other to understand or to explore their own feelings. xxx

  6. On another note. It is so wonderful to see you writing again. x

  7. What a heartfelt yet beautiful poem, Tricia. You write so beautifully!

  8. Absolutely beautiful Tricia. The heartbreak of death appearing suddenly in front of us. How to respond, and yet… I saw this with my own eyes, with my father’s passing, familiar feelings. What life is there to believe in, but this one. xx

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